Beautiful City
by JavertInMiniature
Summary: Javert is falling in love with a mysterious, quick-witted young lady. She seems perfect, until he discovers a secret about her past which he believes he cannot accept. Will he cling to his past or her future? (This is me not apologizing for titling a Les Mis story with a Godspell quote)
1. A Battle of Wits with a Well-Armed Fawn

**So remember when I told y'all I don't write romances? Well, I was lying. Or at least I would be if I said it now. This story is the love child of the fact that I couldn't sleep last night and the other fact that I just got Les Mis on DVD on sale at Best Buy. YES. With a capital YES. For partial inspiration of this story, I would like to thank davidzombieblastergouck for his story _Javert, Louise, and the Mother_ as well as ScienceExperiment5150 for the story _Jennine ValJean_. Seriously. Y'all are great. This may take a while for me to update. Also the first few chapters may be a little bit awkward, as I mentally started the story with Javert falling in love, which will probably not happen for a while. Ugh. Next time I should just take a sleeping pill.**

**Note: I've aged Javert down considerably because, well, I couldn't exactly see 40-year-old him falling in love. It's hard enough to imagine him falling in love at all.**

**Other note: Javert's first name here is Michael. That is not a reference to my first story; I just like the name Michael Javert. While we're at it, the Cosette mentioned in the third paragraph is of no relation to the play - it's just a common French name that I decided to use.**

* * *

Michael Javert was ruthless. At twenty-three years old already in 1812, nothing could possibly stand in his way. Twenty-three. Twenty years ago today, he had sprung free from the terrifying prison in which he was born. Not that he would admit to being terrified. Michael Javert was ruthless. Heartless. Colder than a Toulon winter. More than that, he was proud of it.

It was June of 1813 when Javert spent a week in Paris with some fellow officers from Toulon. They were all young, but Javert had an advantage the other officers did not: he was quite unattractive. If anything amused him, he might have been amused by the fact that the police uniform attracted young women when worn by the other young officers, but terrified them when he wore his own. He liked it that way. The June sun beat down mercilessly on his back, clad in thick navy blue cotton. He smiled, for he enjoyed the sun's lack of mercy on him.

* * *

She was barely nineteen and had not lived in Paris long, but she already had a taste of the way Parisian women of her age acted and she did not respect it. "Look at them, Cosette. Isn't it disgusting, the way they follow the officers, prancing and giggling?"

Cosette snorted at her friend's words. "What, you don't envy them?"

"What, and you do? Cosette, they're like newborn fawns on absinthe." This caused Cosette to laugh loudly enough to draw attention from the officers and their uppity escorts. Behind the group, another officer walked by, and Cosette could not help but notice that her friend snorted as he walked by.

"Say something to him, why don't you? He looks lonely." Cosette pushed her friend forward, almost into the officer.

"May I help you, mademoiselle?" He was already annoyed, and this was not helped by Cosette's laughter. "And why, may I ask, is your friend laughing at you?"

The girl found the strength to stand up straighter. "She's not laughing at me, monsieur, but at you." Cosette covered her face, amazed at her friend's brazenness. The officer stepped back, horrified and quite offended.

"Why is this?" He asked, trying desperately to remain calm.

"You have awfully long hair for a man, monsieur. Your voice betrayed your identity, otherwise we would have carried on talking about how odd it is to see a woman in the king's service."

The officer brushed away the rebellious strands that had broken free from his raven-black ponytail. He did not like rebellion; he adored order and discipline above all things. "You have awfully short hair for a woman, mademoiselle. I would have commented on how a man your age should not be caught wearing a dress."

"If only you had a companion to share such comments with. I care nothing for the length of my own hair. It's not my fault the bourgeois need wigs."

The officer gave her one more look. She was young and strong, and the greatest of optimists might even say beautiful. He was none such optimist. However, he could admire her deep brownish-green eyes, even if they were poorly framed by her short, mousy curls. "You have a quick wit, mademoiselle. Learn to tame it or it will keep any respectable man from marrying you."

"Profound advice from a friend, but unacceptable from a stranger. May I learn your name so that I may accept your advice?"

For the second time that day, week, and month, the young man smiled as he extended his hand. "My name is Michael Javert."

She accepted it, hoping Javert would not see her blush. "And I'm Louise. Do not forget me, officer Javert."

After making sure Javert was out of hearing distance, Cosette began to applaud slowly. "Nice work, Louise. Now who's a fawn on absinthe?"

Louise only stared after him as he strolled away. "What was that?" She asked absentmindedly.

Cosette laughed just as she had wanted to since Javert walked by. "Sweet mercy, look who's in love with a police officer!"


	2. In Your Season Returns-Always the Same

**Hello, welcome back! Nothing really to say yet, other than THANKS FOR READING THIS! :D**

**P.S. I dare you to try and find the American Pie quote ;) ;)**

* * *

Javert did not think he would like Paris, and he didn't. Not really. However, he couldn't help but notice that there was a reason he kept coming back. A tiny brunette reason with gorgeous eyes. Her wit made her difficult, no, _impossible_ to deal with at times, but Javert knew he enjoyed her company more than he would admit to anyone. Especially her.

One night, after all the other officers had gone off to "have fun" in ways Javert wished he did not know about, he stopped by the bakery where he had first met Louise. He walked in just as a man on the worse side of middle age was packing up for the night. "My apologies, monsieur, but there is no more bread for sale today. I will be opening again tomorrow at sunrise if you wish to..."

Javert cut him off with a slight bow and a polite hand gesture. "I was not looking for bread, monsieur. I came here to call on Louise, if she is still here."

The man immediately smiled and offered his hand to Javert. "You must be officer Javert! Pardon me sir. My name is Lambert, and Louise is my daughter Cosette's best friend. Why, she's almost like a second daughter to me! They talk about you all the time. Would you like me to call her?"

Javert nodded. "Merci, monsieur." He stiffly sat down in a chair by the window as monsieur Lambert started up a set of stairs behind the bakery's counter. He stared into his hat for what seemed like a long time, until he heard monsieur Lambert coming back down the stairs with his best friend trailing close behind him.

Javert stood up as she appeared. Her beauty had been steadily growing on him since they first met, but today was the first time she truly took his breath away. Her hair was still mousy, but it was neatly tied in the back and nearly reached her elbows. "Mademoiselle?" He extended his hand to her. As she took it, he contemplated kissing hers, but decided against it, simply shaking it as they had always done.

"Always a question, monsieur. Do you still believe that I am a man?"

"I thought I told you to control your tongue when we first met." He said with mock sternness.

"I thought I told you a year later that I didn't care."

"Fine," said Javert, turning his back on her. "If you really don't care what I say, then I suppose I won't take you for a walk today."

"Now of course, my friend, notice how I said didn't? Perhaps a year ago I did not care, but I am a different woman now. I do care what you say to me, and I would like to hear more, so will you please still let me walk with you?"

Javert turned around and faced her again. "Oh, I suppose I could allow it." He held the door open for her as the two set out for the Jardin du Luxemborg.

Javert led Louise over to a bench where there was not a lot of trees nearby. "Has anyone ever told you about the stories the stars tell?" She shook her head. "Look where those three line up in a row, now broaden your view a little bit. That is a man, and a great hunter as well. Those are his hunting dogs next to him."

Louise could not see exactly what he was talking about, but she didn't want to disappoint her best friend. "What are they hunting?"

Javert pointed to a section of the sky where a group of stars looked quite a bit like a large spoon. "Those bears."

Louise turned to him. "Monsieur, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why would you think something is wrong?"

"Michael." It was the first time in ages she had used his first name. "You only start obsessing over the stars like this when something is really wrong with you. Now don't make me ask again."

He covered his face for a second and sighed deeply. "A few months ago I released a man from prison. I didn't trust him, but I was told to release him. I've just found out today that he's broken parole. I've failed, Louise. I've failed everything."

Louise's chest seized up, but she pushed on. She took one of his hands in both of hers. "Michael, there was nothing you could have done. You have only done your duty; it's someone else's sin at most."

He brought his other hand up to envelop hers. "Thank you, Louise. What would I do without you?" She just smiled and turned away. "It's getting late. I should probably take you back home." As he walked her back to the bakery where she apparently lived, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. For the first time, he actually liked it.

"Until we meet again, my friend." She gave him a slight curtsy as she slipped back in the door, leaving Javert alone and feeling a little bit rejected.

"At least she'll never know," he said as he walked sadly back to his hotel.


	3. Beyond This Ignorant Present

**Hi again! This chapter is just going to be letters between Louise and Javert, as well as Javert's thoughts in between letters. This chapter might get broken up into multiple sections.**

* * *

_Dear Javert,_  
_There is no doubt in my mind that you are reading this in my voice. As long as this is true, you might as well imagine me standing next to you as I say this. First of all, consider yourself slapped. I hope you just felt that. I mean, you don't visit or say anything to me for a whole year? I know you don't leave Toulon often, but a letter would be nice. Imagine two more slaps and an angry glare. The harder of the two slaps was from me, the softer from Cosette (she misses you terribly), and the glare from her father, who is too kind for his own good.  
Monsieur, may I ask you something? (I am imagining that you just said yes.) Why are you always alone? Do officers not usually travel in groups? You are always lagging behind the group, since the day we first met. Why do you not travel with the group as well? Surely you do not wish to be alone, or am I wrong? You are a most peculiar man, monsieur. I can hardly wait for your reply.  
With love,  
Louise_

Javert laughed a little bit at the letter. He was not one to write much, outside of his reports, but for Louise he could make an exception. He took a pen and paper when he arrived at his quarters and began to write whatever he thought he should feel.

_Dear Louise,  
__How did you know that I was going to read in your voice? Surely you do not know me so well as to predict my thoughts. If you do, stop. It unsettles me. Also you slap very hard for a woman. Do you see now why I have always considered you a man? Cosette is more of a woman than you. I suggest you learn from her. My apologies, but I cannot imagine Monsieur Lambert glaring harshly. My mind does have its limits.  
__Speaking (or writing, if you will) of the limits of my mind, I send you a greater apology than before. Do you remember how I told you last year of the convict who broke his parole shortly after I released him? Every day I am accidentally reminded of him. It was the first time in my life I haven't followed my intuition, Louise, and look where I am because of it! I just want to leave this place. I swear by the stars, Louise, I will capture him or die trying.  
__You probably do not wish to read more of my work-obsessed drabble, so I will answer the questions you sent to me when you last wrote. I am not always alone; are you not usually with me? Officers do usually travel in groups, but I have no great liking for the other officers or the company they keep. They are sad excuses for law-givers. Also, I do not lag behind the group; they run in front of me.  
With all the love I can possibly manage to send an obnoxious brat such as you,  
Javert_

_Dear Javert,  
Am I allowed to begin my letters to you in such a way, if I am truly such an obnoxious brat? If so, know that I did feel whatever love you could find for me in the recesses of your stony heart. It is quite appreciated. Hopefully you did not send it all, for I doubt you could grow and harvest any more. I sometimes question how we are friends at all. Simply know that though I question how, I never wonder why.  
Cosette is beginning to flirt a little bit more. There is no single man in Paris safe from her attention seeking. She suggests I do the same. Is that wise? Personally, I cannot see myself marrying.  
I hate to ask you something about which you most likely could not care. Thus, I will leave you to whatever it is you do when you are not answering my letters.  
With whatever love I am allowed to send you,  
Louise_

_Dear Louise,  
If I forbade you to address me in such a way as "dear", I doubt that would stop you at all. However, I allow you to do so. I told you that my mind has its limits, but are you really so naive as to believe that the mind and the heart are the same? This block of stone in my chest has limits, now I suppose it is time for me to test them.  
Speaking of which, perhaps you should begin looking for a husband. Choose carefully, my friend. It is not wise to do as Cosette does, nor is it wise to stay completely silent and cold to everyone. Open your mind before your heart. Your mind is not so easily hurt. I care about you, Louise. _"More than you'll ever know," Javert said as he absentmindedly tapped the base of his pen on his desk. He continued writing. _Besides, by writing me, you are not really leaving me to do whatever it is I do when I am not writing to you, are you? Do not fret, for I do not mind at all. You take my mind off the monotony of my life.  
With love,  
Javert_

Javert read the last sentence one last time, desperately hoping she would read between the lines and feel his love for her.

_Dear Javert,  
It gladdens me to know that you allow me to call you "dear", yet annoys me that you know I would ignore you if you forbade it. Well, I say know. For anyone else it would be true, but I could make an exception for you. Have you considered that? That was an idiotic question. Of course you have not considered it; I have given you no reason to do so.  
Monsieur, I am twenty-three years old. I am not so young as to flirt as Cosette does. Also, who are you to question my decision to stay silent and cold? Do not even bother answering, for I know your answer. There is nothing more silent or cold than, if I may paraphrase you, that block of stone within your chest. However, I do wonder: how is it you know that the mind is less easily hurt than the heart?  
Know that I miss you terribly and send you all the love you can receive.  
Louise_

Javert buried his head in the letter, forcing his eyes to adjust to the dim moonlight. It was official. She had no idea of what he felt for her, and it was time she found out.

_Dearest Louise,  
__I cannot wait any longer. You simply must know what I have been keeping from you all these years, as well as how great a sin it is that I have never told you. _Javert laid down his head on the desk and questioned how he should say the forbidden words.

It took several days, but he finally planned out the perfect words.  
_I told you from the beginning that my heart was made of stone. Perhaps I was right, but in some ways I was wrong. I have observed, over the years, that a living thing may be turned to stone after a long time of suffering and abuse. I was born with a heart of stone: this is no secret. Over the years; however, I have seen you remove the suffering and abuse from the stone and felt it become a living thing. Not only does it live, but it needs to survive. It needs yours to survive. I have dedicated my entire life to abolishing crime, yet hiding my feelings from you is the greatest crime I have seen a man commit. Forgive me, my love. Forgive me for everything.  
__With all the love I can possibly manage to send,  
__Javert_

It was the greatest work he had ever done. Every second from then on was filled with anticipation. As he folded it, he bristled with excitement, thinking of how much closer to her the letter was coming. He looked back at her last letter. She had said she was twenty-three, and yet he knew that she had turned twenty-four already. Confused, Javert checked the date Louise had written on the top of the letter. April 22, 1817. It was now January of 1818. The letter must have been temporarily lost in delivery. Javert cursed everything, hoping she would not be angry with him for delaying the letter for so long. As it just so happened, he received another letter from Louise just as he was preparing to seal his own letter. Trembling, he broke the seal and began reading.

_Dearest Javert,  
Forgive me for not writing in so long. I awaited your response, but you did not reply. Your advice to me paid off, by the way. Cosette as well, but I believe I owe you more thanks for this than I do to her. I have opened my mind to the people around me, and a man has found his way into my heart through there. He is the most wonderful man, Javert, an officer like you. His name is Jacques Bernard, and he has proposed marriage to me. I really did want you to be the first to know, but Jacques went and told everyone I knew. Except you of course. I have not told him about you. Not yet. I do believe you would like him. Please try, for me? Visit us soon. We are to be married within the month.  
I love you dearly, you great pest. Respond to me this time, I beg you!  
With a certain and definite love,  
Louise_

Javert winced at her words. Just as he was about to end her blindness, she had to go and reveal the extent of that very same blindness. He cursed loudly and slammed into the wall, allowing a single tear to escape his eye.

_Dear Louise,  
__I am impossibly happy for you; however, I shall not be able to visit. I am leaving Toulon soon, and there are rumors that I will go to a town far from here.  
I love you terribly.  
__Javert_


	4. Lost in Delivery

_Dear Javert,  
I miss your responses almost as much as I miss you in person. Jacques and I went to England for our honeymoon and it was absolutely lovely. Go there before you die. Although, I hate to think of you dying. Am I correct in assuming that you are still alive, you great pest? You are usually so quick to respond; what has changed? You are sometimes a difficult man with whom one can be friends. I say sometimes with all the love in my heart. You say that you were finding the limits of your heart. I shall assume, if you remain silent, that you have found them.  
With love,  
Louise_

_Dear Louise:  
Javert has been promoted to Inspector at Toulon, but before anyone could even celebrate, he was moved to Montreuil-sur-mer. My apologies for reading this last letter to him. Please do not blame him for his silence: he has not received a single letter since he moved. I believe he may send you his address soon, but I cannot predict him. He is a most peculiar man, madame. Take care.  
Sincerely,  
Eugene_

_Dear Javert,  
I apologize for my silence; however, will you do the same? Know that I have already forgiven you for it. Why did you not tell me of your promotion? Am I wrong in believing that I was at least once your best friend?  
I understand if you cannot visit soon. This does not make me miss you any less. Visit me as soon as you can; I'm sure Jacques would love to meet you.  
With love,  
Louise_

_Dear Javert,  
You are probably absorbed in your work and cannot respond as much as I would like you to. Please forgive me, my friend. I shall probably stop writing soon. I do not wish to, but it seems I must.  
I am with child, Javert. My condition is not so very advanced, but Jacques wishes me to stay home as much as I can. I am dreadfully ill and I miss Cosette and monsieur Lambert. I miss everyone except Jacques. I miss you most of all.  
Forgive me for rambling, but I wish to tell you all I can before I can no longer write. I love Jacques with all my being, but my greatest proof of this is tearing me apart from the inside. I find myself often frightened of everything. Your absence is not helping this. Please, Michael, send me your word! The closest thing I have had to human contact within these past few weeks (besides seeing Jacques when he comes home every day) is sitting by my open window and feeling the sun on my hands. I am pathetic, Javert. I am constantly dizzy and lack the ability to stand most of the time, so I sit by the window all day. I even have to ask Jacques to open it every morning before he leaves. I am so frightened, Javert. I no longer know what to do with myself. Jacques is so sweet and over-protective of me, but even he cannot protect me from what is happening. He also does not allow people to visit me for the time being, so I only have these letters to remind me that there is, in fact, a world outside my door. How long do I have before even that is taken from me?  
Every day is more painful than the last. One more breeze that is just too cold, one less step I can take before falling to the floor, one less person writing to me, one less minute Jacques spends in the house, one more wrinkle in my brow. I spend all day petrified in fear.  
With love,  
Louise_

Jacques arrived at home several nights after the letter was mailed, late as usual. "My love," he said as he sat next to her, "what shall we name the child when he is born?"

"It may be a girl, Jacques."

"Very well. Because you have considered that, our daughter's name shall be Louise. But what should we name a son?"

For the first time in ages, a quite genuine smile spread across Louise's mouth. "Michael."


	5. Goodbye, Michael

**Alrighty then, so this is where the story gets a little dark. Sorry. Hey, it's rated T for a reason. Also written following Louise for a change. Slight influences from Oklahoma! in this, except darker (you'd get it if you knew Oklahoma. If you do, you now have Surrey With the Fringe on Top stuck in your head. Sorry, not sorry.)**

* * *

"Madame Bernard?" Louise's landlady knocked softly on the door.

"Come in," she called as eagerly as she could, which was still weak. The elderly woman walked in, and was shocked by Louise's appearance.

"Madame Bernard! Are you unwell? Shall I send for a doctor?" Louise could barely nod. The old woman rushed away. Louise hoped she asked someone to go to the doctor for her, as it probably was not wise for her to rush all the way there.

* * *

"Madame Bernard," the doctor's voice was grave as he took Louise's hand. "Your child is alive."

"What is wrong then?"

The doctor's eyes shut tightly for a second before he stared her down. "He is killing you quickly. If immediate action is not taken, you will both be dead by the end of this year."

Louise tried frantically to hold back her sobs. "What can we do?"

"If I bring you into surgery within the month, there is a good chance you will survive relatively unscathed, but there will be two major sacrifices. First, you will likely never conceive again."

She turned away her face. "What is the second."

"There is no doubt in my mind that you will survive." He laid his hand on the fatal bulge. "He will not."

"When should I come in?"

"I do not recommend anything later than Saturday."

Louise turned back to the doctor with red eyes and a voice racked and broken by sobs. "I will come on Thursday, if that works for you."

* * *

Wednesday night brought Louise no sleep. She looked over at Jacques, asleep as usual with an expression that was neutral in every way. Some days she thought she might not love him. Other days, like today, she knew she didn't.

Louise gently rubbed her protruding stomach. She desperately wanted to love Jacques, but there was no way she could. There was something wrong. She couldn't place it, but it was definitely there. Louise leaned forward. She wanted to kiss Jacques, to tell herself that she loved him, to tell herself that he loved her. Slowly, she placed her lips on his. It was awkward and forced, almost to the point of feeling wrong. Here it was, the last moment the three of them would spend together, and Louise was slowly realizing the only one here who loved her would be dead in a matter of hours.

"_Hush, child, hush, don't you know your mama loves you? Hush, baby hush, mama loves you..._" She whispered over and over again to the life that was ending her own.

* * *

_The anesthesia felt like a pair of hands picking me up by the shoulders and dragging me back. They shrouded my eyes, telling me it would be okay, then it was all dark and I was alone in the emptiness. "Where am I?" I called to no one in particular. The darkness split just enough for me to see shadows of people who were not really there._

_"Mama? Mama, are you here? Mama what's happening to me?" The child hobbled out of the silhouette, covered in blood but still recognizable. He and I were identical._

_"Michael!" I called but he would not come. "Michael, come here my son!"_

_"Mama, what are they doing to me? Mama, don't let the bad men take me away!"_

_I rushed over to his side, unable to contain myself any longer. "They're not bad men, Michael, they're angels. They're taking you home to Jesus. Don't you want to go home to Jesus?" My son began to fade from my vision as tears streamed down my face. "Mama loves you, Michael. Mama loves you so much..."_

_"What are you doing with my son, you whore?" My husband's voice was rough like I had never heard before._

_"He's our son, Jacques. Have you forgotten so quickly?"_

_"He can't be your son. What mother would kill her own child?"_

_"He would have died anyway! There was nothing I could do! Jacques, for mercy's sake, listen to me!" He drew his nightstick out from the folds of his uniform. "Jacques, please!"_

_"The law knows no mercy." The nightstick slammed into the back of my neck, sending me to the cold, hard ground. I got up to my hands and knees, but each time the club would crack down on me and send me to the ground again._

_"Please, my love, what law have I broken?" Blood began to flow from my mouth more fluently than my words did._

_Jacques grabbed my chin, wrenching my face upward. "Since when do you address me as 'my love'? I was not aware I was on such a list. If you must know, you are a murderer."_

_The nightstick continued cracking down on me, causing my vision to blur even more. My son was the last thing I saw as I blacked out once more. "Michael... Michael... MICHAEL!"_

_"I'm right here, Louise, what's wrong?" My eyes opened again as Javert's voice floated over me. He looked exactly as he did when we first met._

_"Javert..." I thought I would be out of breath, but I felt no pain. I stood up as quickly as humanly possible and slapped him hard across the face. "Where have you been all this time? I needed you, Javert, whether you knew it or not! I needed you... I loved you..." His arms were slowly wrapping around my waist._

_"I am impossibly sorry, Louise. Please forgive me." I pulled him in closer and heard him whisper just as I had often imagined him saying, "I love you terribly." Just as in real life, they were his last words to me as the light streamed in through my eyes._

"Madame Bernard? Would you like a carriage to deliver you home?"

"Yes, thank you doctor."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, I simply had a strange dream. Doctor, may I ask you something?"

"Anything at all."

"Was the baby a boy or a girl?"

"It would have been a son, madame." Louise's eyes closed with worry. "Here is some medicine; remember to take it twice a day for the next fortnight. Avoid anything stronger than wine, and try to sleep as much as possible."

The doctor accompanied Louise home and made sure she was safe. Of course, her safety could only be guaranteed when Jacques was not home.


	6. Returns and Returns

**Hello again! Some time has passed between the last few chapters, both in real life and in the story. So we're back to a little more friendship fluff between Javert, Cosette, and Louise, or is Javert capable of fluff anymore? We'll just have to see...**

* * *

Javert sighed as he leaned against the door. The first time he had been to this apartment, he hadn't really taken a good look at it, as he was far too eager to begin his new assignment. The first thing he had to do was reach into his jacket and pull out the crucifix he always kept on his wall. He never really knew what it meant, but at least it settled him to see it.

If there was one complaint Javert had about living in Paris, it was that the lights of the city made it nearly impossible to see the stars. Orion's Belt glittered from its usual place for this time of year. Even if they were invisible sometimes, at least the stars were constant. _If only I was. _Javert sighed heavily.

_Dearest Louise,_

The letter had always been with him. Javert did not like emotions, but pain was better than any other feeling he was prone to getting. He folded the letter neatly. "Never again," he whispered softly into its creases. Javert set the letter down on top of the bag he had brought in earlier in the day, then stumbled into his new bedroom and fell upon the bed.

Javert awoke the next morning, eager to begin work and disgusted with the lack of order in his appearance. The ponytail was getting unruly, after not having been cut for several years. Angrily, the inspector untied and retied the black ribbon.

Louise had given him this ribbon. He had received it on his last night in Paris, wrapped up neatly in brown paper with her perfect handwriting "Now you have a ribbon to actually match your hair. I know how much you hate disorder." He smiled faintly, thinking about the days he spent waiting to see her and the nights he spent leading her through brightly lit streets and gardens, her hand and occasionally her forehead resting on his arm. All this time he had physically supported her, never realizing how much she emotionally supported him.

"Monsieur Javert! You had a reputation for being punctual, but you have even outlived your reputation. We were not expecting you for another hour!" Javert felt uneasy at this attempt at humor. He knew that the people who tried to make him laugh meant well; they just didn't understand the way his mind worked. His superior continued, "Monsieur l'Inspecteur, you have been a tireless servant to justice your whole time at Toulon and especially Montreuil-sur-Mer. That is why you are here today. The city has changed since the last time you were here, Inspector. Take today to familiarize yourself with the city and everything about it."

"Are you telling me to take today off work?" Javert was stunned and found it hard to stay respectful.

"You cannot truly begin work until you understand your assignment. So in a way, yes. I suppose so."

Too shocked for words, Javert could only bow to the man before turning to leave. "Monsieur Javert?" He turned in the door to face his superior. "Might as well take today to cut your hair, Inspector. My officers keep their hair short and well-tamed." After giving another slight bow, Javert left to conceal his anger.

Considering it part of his duty, Javert searched the city for a barber. Six years and the addition of daylight indeed did change the city. He was beginning to feel hopelessly lost when a haughty flip of auburn hair caused him to laugh. "Cosette?"

The young woman turned around to face him. She was surprised at first, but her surprise gave way to mischief. "Well, aren't you just as ugly as the day I first laid eyes on you!" The pair of almost-friends clasped each other's elbows; Cosette even allowed Javert to spin her in a circle. For that matter, Javert allowed himself to spin her in a circle. "Where have you been all this time? Louise has been worried sick about you!"

"Louise?" Javert was completely taken aback. "Why should she be worried about me? I would claim to be worried about her, but at least she's got a family."

For the first time in Javert's memory, he saw Cosette's eyes cloud over. "I suppose she hasn't written you in a while."

"Cosette... What aren't you telling me..."

"She doesn't exactly have much of a family left. I don't doubt your abilities as an officer, Javert, but most of the reason you're here is because Jacques Bernard isn't."

Javert stepped back with the strangest combination of horror and relief he had ever felt. "Where is he?"

"Beneath a headstone. Honestly, who cares where?"


End file.
